The Ruby Kiss

by Helen Scott Taylor

  The safest place for her to be, Ruby decided, was probably the dais holding the throne, as the rabble was unlikely to follow her there. Twister’s wolf lounged at the chair’s foot, his golden eyes fixed on her. She was wary of the wolf, but she doubted he would hurt her because he obviously wanted control of her power. It sounded like that’s what everyone wanted.

  Her gaze traveled up the back of the Whip standing in front of her to his short dark spiky hair. She hoped he wasn’t the only guard on duty in the room, because she was about to make his life difficult.

  With her shoulder lowered, Ruby sidestepped him and charged at the crowd. People jumped aside, giving her an opening. Another Whip with long dark hair materialized in front of her and pinned her with midnight black eyes, but she was committed to her plan and in no mood to back down. She cannoned on toward him. At the last minute he pivoted and moved ahead of her, clearing a path through the onlookers. A few times hands touched her, but a whip snapped through the air and deterred them.

  Invigorated, Ruby put on a burst of speed, shoving against the back of the guard in front of her to make him move faster. He swore under his breath and disappeared. Ruby stumbled in surprise, recovering just in time to scramble over the rope of leafy greenery trimming the dais. Four dark-haired guards fell into formation behind her and formed a barrier to keep the crowd away from the throne.

  Triumph pulsed through Ruby as she bent, resting her hands on her thighs to catch her breath. The greenery along the edge of the dais burst into life, sending creepers spiraling toward her like green snakes, while holly berries swelled and reddened. Her magic definitely worked here. She just wished she could control it.

  The huge gray wolf rose to its feet, a growl vibrating in its throat. “Blimey O’Reilly,” Ruby whispered. The wolf looked a lot bigger close up.

  She backed toward the throne. “See, I can look after myself,” she said with bravado. Although the Whips had protected her, she had definitely beaten Twister at his own game.

  The Unseelie king’s lupine ears were ragged, while his facial scars were scores in the gray fur on his muzzle and cheeks. In a sudden flash of insight, Ruby realized the injuries must have been inflicted when he was in canine form. The wolf’s lips drew back, revealing a vicious set of pointed teeth. He’d been so angry when he brought her here; she prayed she was right in assuming he wouldn’t harm her.

  Ruby’s tired legs faltered, so she grabbed the twisted branches of the throne to steady herself. A strange rushing sound filled her ears, and her vision blurred. She blinked, but it took forever to lower her eyelids and raise them again. The next time she opened her eyes, the wolf had gone and Twister stood in its place. The menacing glow had faded from his eyes and confusion flashed across his face.

  He extended a hand, mouthing words she couldn’t hear. Leaves burgeoned on the ancient twisted branches of his throne. Streamers of energy danced across the throne from her hand. Bunches of white buds sprang forth and blossomed, covering the seat in drifts of fragrant white flowers. I’d love to paint this, Ruby thought. Then darkness circled her vision and she collapsed to the floor.

  * * *

  Nightshade had spent an hour wandering the cold moorland outside the Bunker talking with Devin, and now dawn lightened the sky. His hurt had faded to a dull ache, and he realized he’d overreacted. Ruby’s rejection had reopened old wounds from his youth, when the Cornish piskies had tried to drive him away because they didn’t want a vampire in their midst.

  Devin departed to take care of his harem, and Nightshade made his way back to Twister’s study. He expected to find Ruby asleep on the sofa, but the ticking and whirring of the king’s perpetual motion devices played to an empty room.

  Nightshade’s muscles tensed with concern, so he shrugged his shoulders to loosen them. Twister must have given Ruby a room for the night—but Nightshade still wanted to see her to assure himself she was okay. He left the study and headed back to the main corridor.

  “Where will I find the king?” Nightshade asked as one of the brownies that worked for Twister hurried past.

  The small thin creature glanced over its shoulder. “Try the Assembly Room. Follow this corridor as far as you can and pass through the door at the end.”

  Nightshade strode in the direction indicated, his heart picking up speed. Although he had no reason to suspect Ruby was in trouble here, apprehension still nipped at him. When the arched wooden doorway came into view, his breath hissed out in relief.

  He pushed open the door and stepped through, noticing the release of pressure as he left the Bunker’s magical warding. The cavernous room in front of him contained unoccupied tables and chairs. Tankards, cards, and counters littered the tables as though the place had been vacated hastily. A few individuals huddled against the far wall in shadow.

  Nightshade swung his gaze to the opposite end of the hall where four men with whips stood in line guarding Twister’s throne. The cyclops who’d been at the Gathering stood there, blocking his view, so Nightshade skirted the room to get a better look—and caught a glimpse of Twister crouching over someone prone on the dais. His apprehension hardened to fear.

  “Twister,” he shouted, breaking into a run. “What’s going on? Where’s Ruby?”

  “Keep him away,” the Unseelie king commanded.

  What? Nightshade’s step faltered. Something was wrong.

  The guards faced Nightshade, readying their bullwhips to strike as he charged forward.

  “Stay back,” one of them ordered. A leather thong whistled toward him. Nightshade caught hold of it and looped it around his wrist before yanking the weapon from the guard’s hand, but as he reeled in the length of plaited leather, the other three whips cracked out, biting into his flesh. Blood trickled down his belly from a wound on his chest.

  He growled. Now that he was closer, he caught a glimpse of Ruby’s dressing gown, confirming his suspicion that she was on the ground, probably hurt.

  “Let me get to Ruby,” he commanded. Twister didn’t respond.

  Fear sliced through Nightshade, followed quickly by anger. He faded to his shade form, something he rarely did, so he would appear as little more than a shadow.

  Faster than the guards would be able to see, he shot toward them. He caught one with a punch to the jaw, but when he jabbed a second blow the guard had disappeared. Damn. They were air elementals, able to walk unseen through the air like Troy. Even in shade form, he would find them difficult to overcome.

  He was close to the dais, so Nightshade slowed and returned to solid form. Ignoring the agonizing strikes of the guards’ whips, he crouched to see past the cyclops. Twister knelt beside Ruby’s prone form, her head and shoulders cradled in his arms.

  “Get away from her,” Nightshade bellowed. “Ruby! Can you hear me, Ruby?”

  The Unseelie king’s gaze rose, his jaw tense and his eyes flaring gold. “Get out of here, stalker. She’s mine now.”

  “She’s what?” The words slipped from Nightshade’s lips in an incredulous whisper. Twister hadn’t once indicated he was attracted to her. What in the Furies had happened between them in the hour Nightshade had been away?

  Twister leaned over Ruby like a worried lover, and burning anger flooded Nightshade. “Get your hands off my woman,” he shouted.

  The whip-wielding guards closed in on him while he stared, dumbfounded. They wrenched his arms behind his back, trapping his wings, and dragged him away.

  He again transformed into his shade form, in which he could move very fast. As his physical form faded, he slipped from his captors’ hands and rushed forward. A moment later the guards were again blocking his path.

  He struck out at the nearest man and found no one there. A whip thong wrapped around his rib cage, leaving a trail of fiery pain in its wake, and he leapt up, beating down his wings. But before he gained enough height to clear the guards, they grabbed his legs and pulled him back to earth.

  Four more whip-wielding guards materialized to join the first. He
glared into their expressionless black eyes. He was having trouble overcoming four air elementals; eight would be impossible.

  “Let me see Ruby,” he shouted as they dragged him backward toward the door again. “If you’ve hurt her, I’ll kill you.”

  His threat garnered him a smack to the head with a folded whip that left his ears ringing. He transformed to shade form again and dashed toward the dais, but before he reached Twister the eight guards were ahead of him, forming that protective ring around their king. They grabbed him once more and repeated the painful struggle toward the door.

  He would never overcome eight air elementals alone. If only Devin hadn’t left. If only Troy were here. But . . . thinking of Troy gave him an idea. The immortal had said he didn’t interfere in the Unseelie Court’s affairs, but this might be a matter of life or death for Ruby.

  Assuming shade form, he again evaded his captors. But instead of charging the dais, this time he regained solid form about twenty feet from the throne. Inside his head, he called Troy’s name, hoping their newly formed blood bond was strong enough for mental contact. He had no illusions he could compel Troy to do his bidding as he usually could through a blood bond, but he hoped the immortal might choose to answer him.

  There was a subtle shift in the atmosphere. Troy materialized at Nightshade’s side, dressed in scarlet and gold, a bright spot of color in the dreary room. “I hope you had good reason to call me,” he said, a hint of censure underlying his words.

  The guards cracked their whips, but the leather thongs bounced off a shimmering dome of light now protecting both Troy and Nightshade. The guards regrouped and glanced over their shoulders at their king for instructions.

  “Twister has my woman,” Nightshade said under his breath. “She’s sick or injured and he won’t let me near her.”

  “Ah.” Amusement flickered in the immortal’s blue eyes. “An issue of global importance.”

  “Thor’s blood, what’re you doing here?” Twister growled at Troy. He laid Ruby down, vaulted to his feet, and pushed through his guards to face him. “Since when are you at the beck and call of mortals?”

  “You don’t know me as well as you think you do, nephew.”

  “You’ve no business here,” Twister asserted.

  Troy angled his head to glance at Ruby. “Why have you taken Nightshade’s woman?”

  “He has no claim on her. They’re not bonded,” Twister replied.

  “Are you bonded with her?” Troy asked.

  “If you’ve bonded yourself to Ruby, I’ll bloody well kill you,” Nightshade gritted out. He sucked in a shuddering breath, trying to maintain his fragile hold on his temper.

  “She’s the Unseelie queen,” Twister announced, giving a defiant glare at Troy. “That supersedes any rights this stalker thinks he has.”

  “She’s not the bloody queen, she’s the Mistress of the Beasts,” Nightshade retorted, fear and anger knotting his guts. Had Twister somehow claimed Ruby as his queen to make sure he had control of her power?

  “The Blackthorn Throne blossomed at her touch,” Twister announced, as if that settled the matter.

  For the first time since he’d arrived in the cavern, Nightshade examined the throne. He noticed tiny white flowers covering it.

  “What in the Furies does that prove?” he snapped. “We’ve all seen her make plants grow.”

  “An ancient prophecy foretells that the throne will bloom at the touch of the Unseelie queen,” Twister said. “I’ve waited centuries for this to happen.”

  Troy shook his head, the rubies adorning his blond hair flickering like fire in the lantern light. “You know this isn’t right, nephew.”

  Twister seemed to know no such thing. “Get rid of them,” he commanded his Whips, pointing.

  Troy motioned with his hand, and all eight men disappeared. “I’ve sent your guards to visit the Irish fairy queen,” he announced with a small smile. “She likes whips.”

  Twister swore and bit out a command to his cyclops.

  “Go to your woman,” Troy said in a soft aside to Nightshade. Then he reached over his shoulder and, with a musical whisper of metal on metal, drew his black sword from the scabbard on his back. He sketched a sizzling arc of light through the air with its tip.

  Nightshade waited until Boulder the cyclops was occupied, then he circled to the side of the dais. He balled his fists when Twister swung around to face him. Past talking, Nightshade advanced, his jaw set, ready for a fight.

  With a resigned sigh, Twister stepped back, leaving a clear route to Ruby. Nightshade hurried forward, and after a brief check to ensure she had no physical injuries, swept her into his arms. To protect himself from a surprise attack, he sat on the throne, cradling her on his lap, not caring if he offended the Unseelie king.

  “Ruby, love.” He pressed his lips to her forehead, shocked that she already meant so much to him.

  She was limp, unconscious. A chill ran through him as he stared down at her pale face. Her normally rosy cheeks were milk white, making the freckles scattered across her nose stand out. But, thank the gods, the regular beat of her heart still pounded.

  Troy materialized in front of the throne without a fight. He extended a hand toward Ruby but hesitated. “May I touch her?”

  Nightshade nodded. Twister grimaced.

  Troy brushed his fingertips across Ruby’s cheek. “Her energy is greatly depleted,” he said.

  Twister offered reluctantly, “She passed out when she touched the Blackthorn Throne. She hasn’t learned to channel life force yet, so it must have taken her energy.”

  “Why in the Furies did you let her touch the throne?” Nightshade demanded. “Why was she even here? She was dead on her feet. You should have given her a place to sleep.”

  Twister’s expression hardened, his eyes shuttering. “I’m glad she came here; otherwise I’d never have realized she was the Unseelie queen.”

  “I gather you haven’t informed the Mistress of her new honor,” Troy said, his tone laced with irony. “Don’t you think you should let her decide her own future?”

  “She has a duty to me,” Twister hissed.

  “She won’t want to be Unseelie queen.” Nightshade stared at her deceptively peaceful expression. When Ruby woke, she was going to be horrified. She hadn’t even wanted to be Mistress of the Beasts!

  “Anyone who manipulates life force would be able to awaken the throne,” Troy pointed out. “Both the old Mistress and the Bride of Light would have done so if they’d had occasion to touch it. I don’t believe the event proves anything.”

  Twister shook his head. “I don’t care what you think. Once she’s visited the Bride of Light for instruction on using her power, she’ll assume her place as my queen.”

  Nightshade ground his teeth but let Twister’s comment pass. When Ruby woke, she’d cure Twister of his illusion herself.

  Troy seemed to fixate on a different aspect. “So, you’re going to see Aila,” he said, releasing a protracted breath. “Don’t let Devin accompany you. The moment he lays eyes on her, his heart will overcome his good sense. He might get you all killed.”

  * * *

  Chapter Five

  Ruby woke in a shadowy room, the flicker of an open fire dancing at the edge of her vision. She drifted in a sleepy haze before it occurred to her she didn’t have a fireplace in her bedroom; then her eyelids snapped up and she gazed around at unfamiliar surroundings.

  She was in a large bed. Nightshade sat in a wing chair beside a fireplace, his legs slung over one arm, his wings over the other. It seemed they were alone.

  At the sight of him, memories of the terrifying experience in the Assembly Room rushed back. Ruby pushed herself up on an elbow. “Nightshade,” she whispered, tentatively. Would he still be angry with her?

  He didn’t stir, but a pale patch on his lap moved, separating into two hairy heads with topknots.

  “Ares, Apollo? Come here, boys.”

  Her two Yorkshire terriers leapt to the
ground and scampered over, yelping with excitement. She dangled a hand over the side of the bed and they jumped up to lick her fingers.

  “Ruby, you’re awake.” Nightshade rose and strode across the room to halt beside the bed. “You gave me a scare, woman. How do you feel?”

  “I’m sorry, Nightshade. I didn’t mean to upset you.” She sat up against the pillow, hugging the covers to her chest. She ached to reach for him but after the way he’d stepped back from her touch earlier, she held off, waiting for him to make the first move.

  “I overreacted. I should never have left you to fend for yourself,” he said.

  “You weren’t to know that Twister would . . .”

  “Twister would what?” he prompted.

  If she described what Twister had done to her, Nightshade would probably call him out for a duel or something equally archaic. She wasn’t sure how that would end, but the idea didn’t seem good.

  “That Twister would take me to the Assembly Room,” she finished, hoping the answer would satisfy him.

  “You’re safe now. That’s what matters.” With a smile, Nightshade scooped up a tiny hairy canine in each hand and deposited them on the bed. Ares and Apollo leapt at her, shivering and yapping with excitement. Ruby gathered them in her arms, her throat tight with tears of gratitude for this one small piece of normality.

  Once her pets had calmed down and curled up together, she patted the blankets at her side. Nightshade perched on the edge of the bed, and stroked the dogs. She petted the dogs as well, letting her fingers brush across his hand.

  Much as she wanted to be independent, she needed him while she was embroiled in this fairy world. She could admit that. But she would never let him rule her life like her mother had.

  “I’m not sure why I passed out,” she reflected, thinking back to what had happened. Perhaps the stress had affected her. She didn’t normally keel over in times of trouble.

  Nightshade shrugged. “Twister’s throne flowered at your touch. He thinks it drained your energy.”